Big Salmon Lake [m] Fresh out of an icky gooey womb

Tonravik listened to the male. They had shared plenty of information, and this was as neighborly as Tonravik would ever be. It seemed the Caldera operated similarly to them, killing their trespassers if they could be killed. Slippery she understood. Those plains wolves managed to be slippery. But Tonravik would not let them slip out from her jaws again. No, next time she saw them, she would truly kill the bitch. She knew their numbers, their leader, and enough of their culture to know what she was up against.

The leader waited until Peregrine finished. The male was wordier than her mate, which she thought impossible, but at least she approved of his words. It meant she was more patient and tolerant of his speaking, when normally she'd simply have left. "Tonravik," she introduces, waiting for Iqniq to give his name before looking to him... and back to the dark male.

They did not do alliances. But in keeping the wolves on their side of the River? In keeping the prey here, and in keeping the outside wolves out? Tonravik could not help but enjoy the sound of this. So she nods, as though to say, I could consider this. Because she certainly could. Tonravik could hardly differentiate one wolf from the next. Why wolves needed to leave their territory and bombard on their own, in any case, she did not understand.